


Before it's too late

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [22]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Confession, F/M, Fluff, Mild Angst, Post Season 7, Post canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 18:51:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18531034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Brienne and Jaime split up to lead different squads to fight the dead, and when she isn't back, Jaime is distraught with the conclusion that she's dead.





	Before it's too late

**Author's Note:**

> An impulsive confession - I don't seem to ever get enough of these near-death confessions!

Jaime and his men had returned to the castle, injured and worn out, but alive and in one piece. At least for now. With Winterfell surrounded by the ever-increasing army their adversary had managed to raise, they had no choice but to divide their forces into smaller groups and defend the castle from all the sides. His eyes darted around the hall noticing the obvious. Every squad was back, but for Brienne’s.

 _Why aren’t they back yet_? He paced the great hall, anxiously awaiting her return, his mind straying towards ominous, unpleasant possibilities of what might have happened to her.

His hopes rose when they eventually staggered in, well, whatever was left of them - tired, hurt and maimed, relieved to be back home. He scanned the group that entered, searching for the one face that mattered the most. But she was nowhere to be seen. The wench’s absence was conspicuous and so was Pod’s.

“Where’s she?” Jaime barked at one of the soldiers who had marched into the battle with Brienne. “Tell me, please,” he almost pleaded when his question was met with silence and a haunted pair of eyes.

But the man only hung his head.

“What the hell happened?” Jaime demanded, forcing himself to avert his mind from the worst possible images his troubled brain had begun conjuring. “Look me in the eye and tell me what happened to her!”

The man looked at him. “S--She--” he stammered, squirming under Jaime’s scorching gaze. “We searched far and wide, but she was nowhere to be found. Both she and her squire went missing. We had no choice but to return when darkness fell.”

Jaime felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. “So you abandoned her?” he asked, horrified. He sank into the nearest chair, his breath knocked out at the terrible turn of events. “You left her to die, or worse still, become one of them?” All her life she’d served others, people who didn’t deserve her service, people who'd treated her like a lowly servant, and this was the pathetic end she got! Left alone to become one among the dead, no body to be found and nothing to remember her by. The gods were, indeed, unjust!

Before he could unleash his wrath on the soldier any further, he felt gentle hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be too hard on them. It isn’t their fault,” Tyrion tried to console him. “What else could they have done if she wasn’t to be found anywhere? I know she’s important to you--”

“Important to me?” Jaime shouted, his voice ringing through the deathly silence in the hall. “ _I fucking love her!_ ”

The words had tumbled out of his mouth without warning, and along with them came a rush of regret that he hadn’t said anything to her all these days. “It’s only because of her that I’m here today,” he lamented, his voice so choked with grief that he was barely audible, even to himself. He was at a loss for how to grieve for her - was he to shed tears to mourn her... or was he to storm out into the darkness to seek vengeance?

“I know, I’ve always known,” said Tyrion soothingly, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. “But you must let it go, let her rest--”

Jaime was beside himself with sorrow. “How can I?” He turned to his brother, trying to battle the tears that threatened to fill his eyes. “All these years I’ve been in love with her without realizing it. I’ve been a fool, Tyrion--” he stopped talking for a second, almost breaking down, falling victim to his despair “—to have never told her how I’ve felt about her. I’m going to regret it until the day I die.” He straightened himself, making a valiant effort to regain his composure.

Tyrion looked equally morose. “I wish I had comforting words for you, brother,” he said dully. “This is war, this is how it’s going to be. We live one moment and we’re gone the next.”

The pain within was too much to deal with, so severe that he wasn’t sure how long he’d last. She’d been the one to pull him out of his anguish when he’d been on the brink of suicide. Now that she was gone, what would he do without her? But he couldn't allow himself to sink, he had to pull himself together, for succumbing to grief was not something the wench might have approved of. He had go on, continue fighting, continue living, for her… for her memories.

A tiny part of his mind, however, refused to accept the inevitable. _What if she’s still alive?_

The far-fetched thought hitting his mind, he was struck by an impulse to do something about it. “I’m going out there to look for her,” he announced, determined not to give up. “We don’t know for certain that she’s dead or--” he couldn’t bring himself to say _undead._

He made to get up when Tyrion grabbed his hand. “You do know it’s a stupid thing to do, don’t you?” His brother met his eyes, a look of understanding flowing between them.

But Jaime was undeterred. “There’s a chance, slim though it may be that she’s still alive,” he said, trying to motivate himself more than convince his brother. “I’m going for her.”

Tyrion sighed in resignation. “So be it,“ he conceded, his lips curving in a thin smile. “I should’ve guessed, the things you do for love, stupid though they may be--”

A gruff voice interrupted them. “I’m coming with you, Lannister,” Tormund invited himself, much to Jaime’s rising irritation. Since the day he’d set foot in Winterfell, he’d been observing the wildling and his growing lust for Brienne, and how he’d always ended up leaving her embarrassed and uncomfortable.

When Jaime threw him a dirty look, Tormund returned the favour. “I care for her too,” he spat.

“Really?” Jaime mocked, his tone icier than the winds outside. “What’s her name, Tormund?”

“There’s a time and a place for a joke, Lannister!” Tormund glared at him as though he wished nothing more than to crush him to death.

Jaime opened his mouth to say something scathing when Tyrion clasped his hand. “Leave it,” he told his brother gently. “Now is not the time for petty arguments. If it’s Brienne you want, stop wasting time and go get her, brother.”

He stared at the wildling, but considered his brother’s advice. “Do whatever you want,” he said finally, getting up. “I’m going after her.”

“You’ll need help,” Tormund said defiantly. “I’m coming.”

Unwilling to engage in a conversation that might do nothing but drain his strength and test his patience, he chose not to answer, speeding down the stairs. ”Watch where you’re going,” he snapped when he bumped into a soldier hurrying upstairs.

“M’lord,” the man stopped him, panting. “Lady Brienne’s alive, she’s on her way--”

Jaime didn’t wait to hear the rest. His heart pounding, he rushed down at double the speed. When he reached the courtyard, he spotted the wench a few feet away, limping her way inside with Podrick by her side. Undoubtedly struck by an injury to her leg, he could see the pain in her eyes as she made an effort to walk by herself, her mulish stubbornness preventing her from seeking her squire’s assistance.

Wasting no more time, Jaime hurried towards her. When he was close enough, their eyes met, and the wench lost her balance, stumbling into the snow. But he was there by her side, catching her in his arms before she could hit the ground. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, supporting her back to her feet.

A faint hue of pink graced her cheeks. “I can manage, Ser Jaime,” she mumbled, flustered by his presence and touch.

But he only held her tighter. “I know, but I’m not going to let go.”

 _I’m never going to let go,_ he decided, refusing to relinquish his hold on her, his emotions now threatening to drive his actions.

“I--I thought I’d lost you forever, wench--” he said, his voice cracking “--that--that I might never see your homely face again--” he stopped, unable to go on.

“I’m fine, Ser Jaime,” she said, the colour on her cheeks now more prominent. “It’s just a broken leg--”

Before he knew what he was doing, before logic could prevent him from following his heart, Jaime pulled her into an embrace and kissed her. Her lips, cold and hard against his left him shivering for a moment, but soon the feeling was gone, replaced by a comfortable warmth, a fire inside him that had been dormant all these years, waiting to be awakened, waiting for the right moment.

_If this isn’t the moment, then what is?_

She surrendered to him, her fingers caressing his beard and stroking his hair as she kissed him back, making him want to do more than just kiss her. He would've gone on all night, but Brienne let go of his lips, blushing. “They’re watching.”

So absorbed they’d been in each other, that Jaime hadn’t noticed the crowd that had gathered around them. “I care a damn, wench.” He still held on to her, unperturbed by the attention that they had drawn.

He sought her eyes realizing how close he’d been to never seeing them again. For many long seconds they just stood there, gazing at each other before she broke the comforting silence. “What just happened--”

“--was something I should’ve done long back, my lady,” he said, running his fingers through her hair. “I lov--”

“I know,” she said, her eyes bright with unspoken feelings. “You don’t have to say it. I can see it in your eyes--”

“Allow me to say it before it’s too late,” he said, wanting to hear it for himself more than tell her. He drew closer. “I love you, Brienne,” he whispered in her ear. “I almost died when I thought you were gone. What would I do without you, wench?”

He could see the unshed tears in her eyes when he pulled back. “I've never been this close to death,” she admitted. “And the only regret in my mind when I thought the end was near was that I never had the chance to tell you--”

“Tell me then,” he urged, aching to hear it from her. “We’re both alive, for tonight atleast.”

She needed no further prompting. “I love you--” she confessed, pressing her forehead to his “--more than anything else, more than my life or honour.” She drew away, looking deeply into his eyes. “There’s one thing I want to ask of you,” she said hesitantly, the colour on her cheeks deepening. “I’d like you to stay with me tonight, Jaime, but only if you want to--”

“I’d quite like that, my lady,” he instantly agreed. They’d wasted years, never saying a word, never surrendering to their heart, but tonight would be different. “And there’s one thing I need to ask you too, wench.” He decided to broach the subject on an impulse. With the war raging, time was something they were rapidly running out of, so it was now or never. “What would you say to a Northern wedding? I know it’s probably hasty and--”

Her lips were on his, the best possible interruption he could ever imagine, a resounding consent to his proposal. “I’d quite like that,” she breathed into his mouth, smiling.

As they hobbled into the castle together, Jaime couldn’t help thanking his good fortune. Brienne loved him, they were both alive, the excruciatingly painful minutes of hell he’d gone through now behind him. Soon they would be one, from this day until the end of their days.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and do let me know if you liked it!


End file.
